Running

He says, “Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth.” (Psalm 46:10)

The very first word the Doctor says in the new series of Doctor Who is “Run,” and in the following scene we see him leading Rose Tyler down a basement hallway to escape a horde of shop-window dummies who have come to life. It is Russell T. Davies’ way of paying homage to the classic series, where “running through corridors” had become a familiar description of what various characters were often doing through many stories over the years.

In more recent seasons, the phrase “base under siege” has been resurrected to describe another Classic Who story type in which the characters find that the TARDIS has conveniently malfunctioned, leaving them stuck in one place, surrounded by an enemy of some sort and unable to escape until they’ve dealt with the problem.

Too often in my life I feel like I am doing nothing more than running through corridors, scrambling to keep up with everything that I need to do and racing to complete tasks as the deadlines loom ever nearer behind me. Other times it seems more like I am being bombarded from every side with one more assignment to complete, responsibility to take on, or situation to deal with.

I need my “to do” lists - by themselves they’re a highly useful tool, and the structure of a list helps me organize my time and efforts while preventing me from forgetting to take care of important things in a timely manner. The danger lies in letting my to do list become the end-all, be-all. I start out making a list as a plan of attack or a roadmap to a goal but all too soon checking things off becomes the all-encompassing mission and I find myself once again being chased down the corridor by a monster of my own making.

How do I remind myself to stop running, stop fighting? It’s a question I don’t have a good answer for, yet it is important, and needs to be addressed. Do I put “Be still” on my to do list? It’s there already, actually, and I check it off after I spend about five minutes with my eyes closed following my daily devotional reading each morning before I get out bed. It has become one more box to tick, one more step in my race through the day, rather defeating the purpose.

“Be still and know that I am God,” writes the Psalmist, and mostly it’s the “be still” that we have latched onto. But go back and read the whole Psalm - it’s the one that begins with another familiar and oft-quoted verse, the one that says “God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.” It is reminding us that yes, our base is under siege, but don’t forget that our besieged fortress is God himself and is therefore impenetrable. I pray that I will remember this when the to do list attacks. I pray that I may be able to stop running and to rest secure in the knowledge that God surrounds me whether I get everything done or not.

The Big Picture

This is God’s Word on the subject: “As soon as Babylon’s seventy years are up and not a day before, I’ll show up and take care of you as I promised and bring you back home. I know what I am doing. I have it all planned out—plans to take care of you, not abandon you, plans to give you the future you hope for. (Jeremiah 29:10-11, The Message)

Thirteen dwarves and one hobbit have been wandering around in Mirkwood forest, seemingly in circles. At their wits’ end, the hobbit, one Bilbo Baggins, being the smallest and lightest of the company (as well as the burglar under whose contract such tasks might fall), climbs a tree to try to get a handle on their location and the direction they should go. His head bursts through the leaves at the top of the tree into blessed sunlight and a flock of black butterflies, and as he looks around he sees…

Well, what he sees depends on whether you are watching the movie or reading the book, and out of all the changes and additions that Peter Jackson made when adapting The Hobbit for the big screen, this minor difference in the second film, The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug, is one of the things that bothered me the most. In the movie, Bilbo becomes excited because he can see the Lonely Mountain in the distance. He can then tell the dwarves the correct direction to go and that they are not far from the edge of the forest. It is a moment of hope after the despair of Mirkwood.

In the book, there is no such hope for Bilbo. It turns out that the tree he climbs happens to be in a low spot and all he can see is more trees on every side, even though they are actually quite close to the edge of the forest and all is not nearly as hopeless as it seems. What Bilbo lacks is the ability to see the big picture at that moment.

While a hopeful scene of seeing the goal and the way out makes you feel better in the midst of the movie drama, I think I like the book version better because it is much closer to how things work in real life. The truth is, we don’t see the big picture when we are suffering or making our way through a difficult situation. In fact, when I wrote about the book scene several years ago during my “blog through The Hobbit,” I too was near the edge of the forest but could not see it from my vantage point. I had spent two years looking for another teaching job with another summer of searching ahead of me but few prospects in sight. The only sign of hope was the sale of my house a few months prior, allowing me to expand my job search parameters, but even with new job listings to watch I didn’t know how much longer it would be. I did not know then that later that summer, I would have an interview with a principal via Skype. I did not know that, having chalked it up as one more interview without a job offer, I would be travelling five hours for a face-to-face interview the next month. I didn’t know that less than a week after that I’d be moving to another state and starting work (barely two days before the students started themselves) and living in a hotel while I tried to get a classroom set up and find an apartment!

So I hope you’ll excuse me if I’m not impressed with the touchy-feely, “oh look, there’s hope!” scene in the movie. I have been in the same position as book-Bilbo, looking around and seeing nothing but trees rising all around me, hoping that maybe the edge of the forest was somewhere just beyond, even though I couldn’t see it. And it turns out, in hindsight, that I was exactly in book-Bilbo’s position, and the edge of the forest was quite close, but the tree I looked from was still down in the valley and not up on the ridge. It turns out that it’s never as hopeless as it seems, for Bilbo or for me. I have learned through my experience that sometimes you can’t see the end, but it doesn’t mean there’s no hope, it just means that you cannot see the whole picture. It means that you have to trust. I pray I may never have to be in the same situation again, but at least now I know that there’s always hope, even in the most hopeless-seeming situations, and I won’t give up just because I can’t see what’s out there.

Perspective II

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. (Romans 8:28)

From the very beginning of Falling Skies, one of the worst things about the invading alien force is the way they kidnap human children and attach “harnesses” (actually creatures from somewhere they had taken over previously) to them in order to control their actions, basically turning them into mindless slaves. In the early episodes of the show, one of the great accomplishments of the human survivors is figuring out how to remove the harnesses without killing the children.

By the third season, the humans have allied themselves with another alien race that had also been enslaved by the invaders, and one benefit of this alliance is the access to technology that lets them remove harnesses completely and safely from children who had been captured. It also allows them to take out the spikes left over in the backs of those who, like Ben Mason, had their harnesses removed before this advanced technology was available.

In the episode “At All Costs,” Ben must decide if he wants those spikes removed or not. On the one hand, he would really like to be a normal teenager again, with nothing that makes him stand out from the crowd. On the other hand, having the harness remnants gives him certain “superpowers” - superhuman strength, for one, and the ability for potential alien allies to speak through him and communicate with the humans. These abilities make him feel needed, like there is something useful he can do. He is no longer just a kid who is in the way and has to follow the directions of the adults. As Ben tells his younger brother, being harnessed was a bad thing, but the harness remnants allow him to do good.

In thinking about this situation, I find myself returning to what I said about Paul in a recent post about perspective in the novel Ender’s Game, but I think Ben's dilemma here is an even better parallel with Paul’s “thorn in the flesh” and how it affected his ministry. I don’t believe God causes bad things to happen to people. I do believe that he gives us the strength to carry on as we walk through those dark valleys, and also the ability to learn from our trials and put that knowledge to use once we reach the other side. Paul learned that weakness made him strong by forcing him to rely on God’s grace, just as Ben has learned that having the spikes gives him a greater purpose in his community.

We all have thorns of one kind or another, and negative circumstances are never easy to deal with. I can only pray that we will let God change our perspectives in these situations and help us to see the good we can do in spite of it all.

Catastrophic Events

We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose. (Romans 8:28)

In his essay called "On Fairy Stories," Tolkien coined a new word to describe an event at the end of a story that suddenly brings about a good resolution when all hope seems to be lost: eucatastrophe, which literally means "good catastrophe." A eucatastrophe is not the same as deus ex machina – it is an event that, while sometimes implausible or just in the nick of time, nevertheless has been set up earlier in the story and does make sense to the narrative, rather than being something completely new that suddenly appears out of the blue right when help is needed.

Eucatastrophes don't have to be positive events themselves. In fact, by definition it is still a catastrophe, no matter what good comes of it in the end. When we last saw Bilbo, he, Gandalf, Bard and the men of Lake-town, and the Wood-elves were trying to negotiate with Thorin and the dwarves for the portion of the treasure stolen from the men's ancestors. Thorin finally agreed to trade Bilbo's share of the treasure for the Arkenstone, but all sides knew that he had no intention of actually following through on his plan.

Now, the men and elves are besieging the Lonely Mountain fortress and Thorin's cousin Dain has just arrived with reinforcements for the dwarves. Battle between the two sides is now imminent and unavoidable. Into the midst of this tense situation, however, comes word of a more serious threat: Goblins from the Misty Mountains are on their way to avenge the death of the Great Goblin and many others of their compatriots at the hands of Gandalf, Thorin, and company towards the beginning of their journey. Tolkien tells us that "the Goblins were the foes of all, and at their coming all other quarrels were forgotten." Dwarves, men, and elves now band together to face the new threat and vanquish the evil that threatens them all, in the process forgetting what now seem to be petty squabbles.

The coming of the Goblin army is definitely a catastrophe – in the ensuing Battle of Five Armies, many allies' lives are lost (including Thorin's) and the Goblins almost win the day. The end result, however, is that the allies remain friends, compromises are reached, fences are mended, and alliances are strengthened. It is not merely a catastrophe, it is a eucatastrophe because many good things do come out of it.

Everyone experiences catastrophic events in their lives. The key lesson is to remember that God turns catastrophes into eucatastrophes. We may not recognize this until we look back after the fact, but even in the midst of negative circumstances we can still trust God to walk with us and we can have faith that better days are ahead.

Count Your Blessings

O give thanks to the Lord, for he is good; for his steadfast love endures forever. (Psalm 107:1)

While the dwarves explore the vacant (for now) lair of Smaug the dragon and begin to inventory the treasure therein, the people of Lake-town are having a different experience altogether, bearing the brunt of the dragon's anger towards the invaders of the Lonely Mountain. Smaug is killed, but not without great cost to the townsfolk. Tolkien describes the aftermath thus:

The waxing moon rose higher and higher and the wind grew loud and cold. It twisted the white fog into bending pillars and hurrying clouds and drove it off to the West to scatter in tattered shreds over the marshes before Mirkwood. Then the many boats could be seen dotted dark on the surface of the lake, and down the wind came the voices of the people of Esgaroth lamenting their lost town and goods and ruined houses. But they had really much to be thankful for, had they thought of it, though it could hardly be expected that they should just then: three quarters of the people of the town had at least escaped alive; their woods and fields and pastures and cattle and most of their boats remained undamaged; and the dragon was dead. What that meant they had not yet realized. (Chapter 14)

This passage reminds me of a recent Sunday School lesson on the Israelites, who often seemed less than grateful for their new-found freedom from slavery as they wandered in the desert. Many times they questioned Moses's leadership and complained that he had brought them out of Egypt just to die in the wilderness – it was better when they were slaves because at least then they had plenty of food to eat and water to drink. It didn't seem to matter that God had helped them escape from the Egyptians at the Red Sea, and given them manna and quail to eat, and water from rocks, providing for them every time they needed something.

We're not much different sometimes. Overwhelmingly negative circumstances can distract us from acknowledging the ways that God continues to take care of us and provide the things we need most. May we be ever mindful of God's providence, both when times are good and when times are bad, so that no matter what happens we can recognize and be thankful for what we have.

Hopeless

The thought of my affliction and my homelessness is wormwood and gall! My soul continually thinks of it and is bowed down within me. But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. (Lamentation 3:19-23)

Bilbo and his companions have been traveling on the dark path through Mirkwood Forest for days on end and their supplies of food and water are starting to run low. When Bilbo climbs a tree to try to see above the forest, all he sees are the tops of trees stretching endlessly in all directions. The dwarves hear the sounds of a hunting party in the woods nearby and several white deer run across their path, but they waste their last arrows in an unsuccessful attempt to bring them down. To make matters worse, when the first deer jumps over the black stream, it causes Bombur to fall in, after which the dwarves must carry his sleeping form until the enchantment wears off.

Tolkien describes their mood thus: "They were a gloomy party that night, and the gloom gathered still deeper on them in the following days. They had crossed the enchanted stream; but beyond it the path seemed to straggle on just as before, and in the forest they could see no change." Things are not as bad as they seem, however. Bilbo didn't know that when he climbed the tree, they were in a low spot, and if he had climbed a different tree closer to the top of the bowl, he could have seen that they were nearing the edge of the forest. The dwarves don't think very hard about their run-in with the white deer, either, but we find out that "if they had known more about it and considered the meaning of the hunt and the white deer that had appeared upon their path, they would have known that they were at last drawing towards the eastern edge, and would soon have come, if they could have kept up their courage and their hope, to thinner trees and places where the sunlight came again."

The problem, as Tolkien so aptly shows us, is that we don't always know important information when we are in the midst of a difficult situation. Lacking that information, we don't pay attention to the signs we do get that things are about to improve, or else we can't fully interpret those signs as harbingers of better things to come. It's no wonder that we, like the dwarves in Mirkwood, become gloomy and discouraged and hopeless when the way becomes dark and seemingly endless. We must remember that we don't have all the information right now, and that things may not be as hopeless as they seem. We must pay attention to the little things that can give us clues to better times ahead. Above all, we must trust God and remain hopeful as we remember the above words of Jeremiah that continue to remain true to this day.

Seek and Ye Shall Find

Ask, and it will be given you; search and you will find; knock and the door will be opened for you. For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened. (Matthew 7:7-8)

A storm is raging in the mountains and the Dwarves' party is caught out in it, their mere overhang providing little shelter from the rock-shattering thunder. Thorin sends Fili and Kili, the youngest dwarves (and therefore the ones with the sharpest eyesight) to find better shelter for the group of travelers. The two scouts return, far sooner than expected, having found a cave nearby that would serve their purposes quite nicely. When questioned about how well they examined the cave to make sure it did not hold any nasty surprises, they assure everyone that they looked carefully and it looked quite protected and safe.

However, Thorin's response is, "There is nothing like looking, if you want to find something….You certainly usually find something, if you look, but it is not always quite the something you were after." 

That is certainly true. In this case, Fili and Kili are looking for a dry, sheltered place to spend the night, and when they come upon the cave, the dryness and shelter are all they see. They do not take the time to examine it closely – if they had, they might have found the ominous crack in the back that would prove to be a problem for everyone. Similarly, there are many people that go looking in the Bible for the verse that will support their opinion on a certain issue, and quite often they find what they think are just the right words. Just as often, they do not take the time to examine the context to find out what the verse really means, which usually is something completely different than the seeker thinks.

On the other hand, sometimes when we look, we find not quite what we were after, but that different something proves to be far better than what we thought we wanted. God promises that when we seek, we will find. Let us trust him and be open-minded enough to recognize that we have found something, even if it wasn't what we were looking for.

Plan B

We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose. (Romans 8:28)

The first major stop in the Dwarves' journey is at Rivendell, the "Last Homely House" before entering the wilderness. Elrond the Half-Elven is master of the house, and he proves instrumental in helping the Dwarves, both in pointing out crucial information on their map and in planning the best route to the Lonely Mountain. However, as Tolkien notes,

"Even the good plans of wise wizards like Gandalf and of good friends like Elrond go astray sometimes when you are off on dangerous adventures over the Edge of the Wild; and Gandalf was a wise enough wizard to know it.
"He knew that something unexpected might happen, and he hardly dared to hope that they would pass without fearful adventure over those great tall mountains with lonely peaks and valleys where no king ruled. They did not. All was well, until one day they met a thunderstorm – more than a thunderstorm, a thunder-battle."

This enormous thunderstorm caused them to seek shelter in a mountain cave, which, as it turns out, had not been as thoroughly checked out as the dwarves who found it had claimed. While they are sleeping, a crack opens up in the back wall and a band of goblins kidnaps them and takes them into their tunnels far below the mountains. Everything turns out alright in the end, though not before some harrowing escapes from the Goblins' clutches. The dwarves come out of the goblin caves on the other side of the mountains, and it is while lost in the caves that Bilbo finds the magic ring that is vital to his later success as a burglar.

It is not unusual for things not to go according to plan, as we all know. In life it helps sometimes to have a plan B to fall back on and to be flexible in case we have to do something else. It is comforting to realize, however, that whatever happens, God will use those circumstances to bring about a greater good than we are able to imagine at the time as things fall apart around our ears. We may not be able to see that far ahead, but we can have faith that eventually that light really will be the end of the tunnel and not an oncoming train!

 

Hats and Handkerchiefs

Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food and the body more than clothing? (Matthew 6:25)

After spending an entire evening playing host to a troupe of dwarves who seem to think he is a burglar that is going to help them reclaim their treasure, Bilbo awakes late in the morning, hoping to find that it had all been a bad dream. When Gandalf finds him, he is finally sitting down to second breakfast after having washed up the breakfast dishes left by his guests in their haste to depart (proof that it hadn't been a dream, after all) and setting his hobbit hole back to rights. The wizard has come to see what is keeping Bilbo, because the dwarves are expecting him to meet them very soon – in fifteen minutes, actually. Bilbo rushes out the door to get to the inn in time, and once he arrives and meets up with the dwarves, he realizes that he is completely unprepared for the journey – he has no walking stick, no money, no hat, not even a pocket-handkerchief. "You will have to manage without pocket-handkerchiefs, and a good many other things, before you get to the journey's end," Dwalin tells him. 

Dwalin also helps him out, though – he loans Bilbo his spare cloak and hood so that he has something to cover his head. Later, Gandalf joins them, bringing Bilbo not only a supply of handkerchiefs but also his pipe and tobacco, a creature comfort that Bilbo hadn't yet realized was lacking.

This is a relatively minor episode in the book, but it demonstrates a truth I have seen in many different situations: God provides. When something is needed, someone shows up with it. If someone doesn't show up with what is needed, they show up with something else that ends up filling the bill even better than the originally-hoped-for item. Sometimes, people even show up to help with something just before the need makes itself known. It is something that I have seen happen over and over again, and I pray that I will remember this when I start to doubt that God will help me through the difficult situations in my own life.

Unexpected

No testing has overtaken you that is not common to everyone. God is faithful, and he will not let you be tested beyond your strength, but with the testing he will also provide the way out so that you may be able to endure it. (1 Corinthians 10:13)

The title of the first chapter of The Hobbit is "An Unexpected Party" and the subtitle of the first installment of Peter Jackson's upcoming two-movie adaptation of the book is "An Unexpected Journey." With these titles, Tolkien and Jackson both are emphasizing that what happens to Bilbo Baggins is a drastic change from his normal Hobbit state of utter predictability. Tolkien tells us right off the bat that the thing that made the Bagginses respectable in the eyes of their neighbors, even more so than their wealth, was that "they never had any adventures or did anything unexpected: you could tell what a Baggins would say on any question without the bother of asking him."

That all changes, however, when thirteen dwarves and a wizard show up, unannounced, on his doorstep one day at tea time. Bilbo fulfills his duty as host, but the whole time he is flustered and upset with the intrusion into his quiet routine. To make matters worse, they are all calling him a burglar and expecting him to join them on a difficult journey to the Lonely Mountain, where he is to help them vanquish a dragon and reclaim their treasure. He keeps protesting that he is not a burglar, and he is certainly not eager to leave the comforts of his hobbit hole to travel who knows where into danger. He is acting much more fearful than a burglar probably should, too, and this causes the dwarves to begin to doubt Gandalf's choice of Bilbo as the one who can help them.

Gandalf's response is quick and authoritative: "I have chosen Mr. Baggins and that ought to be enough for all of you. If I say he is a Burglar, a Burglar he is, or will be when the time comes. There is a lot more in him than you guess, and a deal more than he has any idea of himself."

There are two things in that statement that leap out at me. First, the qualifier that Gandalf adds on to his assertion about Bilbo's abilities: he may not be something now, but he will be when the time comes. Second, Gandalf sees beyond the conventional, predictable Hobbit exterior and recognizes abilities and potential in Bilbo that not even Bilbo himself realizes he possesses. 

I imagine God to be somewhat like Gandalf in this instance. He presents us with challenging tasks or allows us to be in challenging circumstances because he knows exactly what we are capable of, even when we aren't so confident in our own abilities, and he prepares us in all sorts of ways to have the experiences and abilities to do what he needs us to do, maybe not right now, but when the time comes. It's both comforting and scary, all at the same time – and it's so exhilarating to come to the end of a situation you didn't think you could handle, having passed the test with at least flying colors, if not wagon-loads of treasure liberated from the dragon's hoard.

Control Freak

Therefore do not worry, saying "What will we eat?" or "What will we drink?" or "What will we wear?" For it is the Gentiles who strive for all these things; and indeed your heavenly father knows that you need all these things. But strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today's trouble is enough for today. (Matthew 6:31-34)

C.S. Lewis is well-known for the Narnia series and for his writings on Christianity, but he's not always remembered for his foray into science fiction in the form of the so-called "Space Trilogy" (Although I use the term "science fiction" loosely – the books do describe a series of journeys to other planets and meetings with alien races, but there is far more fiction than science. In fact, like the Narnia books, they are a thinly-disguised set of treatises on Christian themes). 

When I read Out of the Silent Planet, Perelandra, and That Hideous Strength, it was the second book that made the biggest impression on me. In it, the protagonist travels to Venus, which is known as Perelandra to its inhabitants. There he finds an oceanic world of floating islands and one green-skinned female humanoid creature, a type of Eve who has been separated from, and spends most of her time searching for, her Adam. 

In the midst of the floating islands is one piece of land that always stays put. The Venusians are allowed to visit it, but they must never spend the night on it – most of their time is to be spent on the floating islands, at the mercy of the wind and waves. At first, the woman tells the Earthman, she thought that the prohibition from dwelling on the fixed island was ridiculous, but eventually she has come to understand it: being on the fixed land made her life less uncertain and caused her to rely less on the protection of Maleldil (her name for God).

"It was to reject the wave – to draw my hands out of Maleldil's, to say to Him, 'Not thus, but thus' – to put in our power what times should roll towards us…as if you gathered fruits together today for tomorrow's eating instead of taking what came. That would have been cold love and feeble trust. And out of it how could we ever have climbed back into love and trust again?"

It's not that I don't trust God, but it's so hard sometimes to relinquish control of my life (or the illusion of control, anyway). I'm not a control freak most of the time, but I do like to be independent and to take care of myself. I wonder if this need I feel for self-reliance is the reason I find myself in my current circumstances – unemployed and dependent on my family for support. I resolve, now and in the future when I'm back on my feet, to accept God's provision and take what comes, secure in the knowledge that I will get what I need.